


Blink Twice

by orphan_account



Category: K-pop, 크나큰 | KNK (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Denial of Feelings, First Love, Getting Together, Ice Cream Parlors, Love Triangles, Love at First Sight, M/M, Personal Growth, Students, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, side pairings galore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 06:51:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11800722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Park Seungjun is the hopeless romantic who has wanted to be married since the day he was born and Jeong Inseong is the happy go lucky ice cream shop worker who gets dragged along.





	Blink Twice

Park Seungjun has wanted to get married since the moment he was born—give or take ten seconds.

Seungjun comes from a line of Park’s that his grandfather calls “two for two in the great god of fate’s favour” and his mother calls “a hot load of superstitious bullshit.” He grew up with stories about how his grandfather had been swept away by his grandmother at first sight, in the middle of the road, and how he had jumped off his horse and proposed to her with wildflowers on the spot. His late grandmother had managed to work her way up to floor manager of a textile factory while raising three kids before passing, the second of which had been a gangly son. Said son had been the first in his family to go to university at the age of 21, and had met a girl named Jinhee at his first university party. He asked her to dance on the spot, and they ended up married as soon as they graduated.

“I was gonna date around.” His mom confesses, when she takes him out for celebratory meat after he gets his first job at a local men’s suit shop. “If someone had told me I’d end up married to the lame grasshopper who eyed me across the room for almost two hours before asking me to dance I would have punched him in the face instead of saying yes. Especially knowing what his goddam parents are like now.” She sighs, smiling despite her tone, so Seungjun continues shoving his face.

“Why did you say yes?” Seungjun asks, beef broth spurting out as he does, and his mom grimaces while she wipes his mouth.

“Stop talking with your mouth full.” She replies, voice monotone since she knows the command is useless. “And I don’t know to be honest. He was handsome, just like you, but he wasn’t the most handsome man in the room. Your father is kind of a loser, in all honesty. Raised by your grandfather, it would have been weirder if he wasn’t. But something just felt right.”

“Love at first sight?” Seungjun suggests, once he’s swallowed, just to see his mom get worked up.

“We don’t use that language in this house.” She seethes, as expected, tossing his dirty napkin from before at him. “I ought to send that senile old bastard off, who knows what kind of weird things he’s taught you. You aren’t asking all these questions for advice, are you? I don’t care what he says, you aren’t allowed to start dating until you make enough money to pay for your own groceries and delete that Digimon game off your tablet.”

“It’s Pokemon.” Seungjun laughs, smiling when she starts to go off about disrespectful millennials.

Seungjun knows it’s a strange notion, or fixation, to be more accurate. But he’s grown up watching his grandparents orbit each other, watching his mom melt in front of his father, watching his grandfather love his grandmother more after her passing than some of his parent’s love each other now. He’s proud of where he grew up, he’s proud of how much his family has accomplished, and so Seungjun opens himself to finding the one anywhere.

Every time he meets someone he takes in their face, expressions, posture, taking them all in for anything that’ll make him erupt. Every time he sat next to someone in class, got partnered with someone for a class project, parked his bike next to someone’s at the school entrance, brushed fingers with someone reaching for the some carton of banana milk, sat across from someone at the library, stood behind someone in a checkout line, took someone’s shoe size for work, met someone at a party, borrowed someone’s notes, he treated it as a chance encounter that could lead to a lifetime of happiness. His little brother likens him to a giant puppy, desperate for affection.

Now that he’s 22, with his first proper internship during the summer and winter terms, Seungjun’s past the age where his father and grandfather met fate, but instead of giving up he decides to be a bit more proactive about meeting someone.

He stops wearing sweats entirely, unless he’s sleeping, and dons slacks or coloured denim wherever he goes. The tailor who works at the suit shop from his part time work, amused at his plight, agrees to adjust some pieces so they suit his build better, and soon Seungjun has an entire closet of clothes that fit him perfectly. He goes through magazines, pays attention during television ads, and observes students that strike him as fashionable when he passes them on campus until he has a curated closet of pieces that actually look good together. He learns to keep a resting bitch face because it’s sexier, but smiles when needed to not appear too cold. Hair styling, reading for pleasure, coffee drinking—anything and everything that appeal to the masses is free game.

“You’ve turned him into a robot.” His mom bemoans over dinner, tapping her chopsticks aganist the edge of her bowl in irritation when her father in law ignores her the first time. “Look at him! He’s holding a book—at the dinner table! What are you going to do with a book at the dinner table?!” She groans, shaking her head as Seungjun sheepishly sets it as his feet.

“I think Seungjun is growing up into a fine young man.” His father cuts in, mixing radish into his rice. “Reading is a good hobby to pick up." 

“My problem isn’t that he reads, it’s that he pretends to read and carries around books that he hasn’t actually read.”

Ouch.

“Seungjun, you’re going to read that book, right?” His father asks, looking up from his food, satisfied when Seungjun nods enthusiastically. “See, honey?”

“What’s the book about?” His mom asks, gaze suspicious as she waits for him to swallow.

“Um, it’s a science fiction book… about…”

“Who’s the author?”

“A French… German? Russian?”

“Do you believe this?” She interrupts, and Seungjun shovels an enormous spoonful of rice into his mouth so he can put off talking for a couple more minutes.

“Maybe he bought the book today! Ask him again in a week and you’ll get your answer.” His father replies, but Seungjun can see the corners of his dad’s mouth curling up as he tries not to laugh.

“Don’t worry about your mother, she doesn’t understand the Park blood.” His grandfather tells him after dinner, as they’re taking a digestive after dinner stroll around their neighbourhood. “You’re a fine young man Seungjun, always have been, and whoever catches your eye is one lucky bastard.”

Seungjun can’t help but worry when they run into Uncle Oh next, an uncle his grandfather’s age from a nearby high rise that his grandfather’s somehow ended up in a rivalry with. His father insists its a love-hate relationship, but Seungjun himself has yet to see the love part.

“How’s your grandson?” Uncle Oh snorts, right after Seungjun greets him. “Your blasted god of fate still ignoring him?”

“And how’s your Heejunie?” Seungjun’s grandfather snides back. “Has the poor boy hit 160 yet? I hear if he’s still that tall by the time he’s 30, he can get disability stipends from the city!”

“He hit 160 ages ago!” Uncle Oh roars, right arm agitated. “You crooked bastard! You’re really losing it; they should have shipped you off ages ago!”

They continue arguing, topic shifting to the Mahjong match from two months ago and then to which one the auntie working at the local mart gives more discounts to, but Seungjun can’t wait for the day when he can finally tell Uncle Oh to shove off, so he continues waking up early to try and piece nice outfits together, continues carrying around heavy books, and hopes for the best.

 

*     *     *

 

Min Yoongi is a friend from Seungjun’s department that he met during a networking event at the end of his second year. They’re friends, but it is more of a study together during the school year and maybe text during winter and spring break type of friendship. Despite the surface level nature of their relationship, even Seungjun knows something is up when Namjoon, a junior from the same department, calls one day to share the news about Yoongi’s new part time job.

“Are you sure he works here?” Seungjun can’t help but stop outside the door, to take in the decor.

Most ice cream shops have clean white floors, walls, and counters, with pops of colour near the service area and sleek booths for customers to sit at. Some have a more wooden theme, with dark stained wood lining every surface, but Piney Cone has gone for a pastel fairy forest theme with mint green carpet and shaggy vinyl coloured floss hanging off all the lamps. The door itself looks like the entrance to a hobbit den from Lord of the Rings, except that it’s a millennial pink.

“It’s apparently extremely popular for children’s birthday parties.” Namjoon laughs, opening the door for them to head inside.

“Welcome to Piney Cone!” A drawly voice greets, and their heads spin around to see the man of the hour, hair matching the carpet. “Okay what the fuck do you want.”

“Language, hyung!” A voice calls from the back, almost lost when Seungjun can’t help but start giggling.

“Yoongi! What did they do to you?” Seungjun cackles, clapping his hands together as peals of laughter erupt.

“What did they do to your hair?” Namjoon adds, hopping onto the counter to rustle Yoongi’s bangs. “Is it fake?”

“Of course it’s fake.” Yoongi groans, shoving Namjoon off the counter. “It’s not like I can go to class with green hair. Career fair is coming up too.”

“I think you should keep the wig.” Seungjun argues. “You’ll really stand out. Samsung might look twice.”

“Oh fuck off, what are you two doing here.” Yoongi sighs, Seungjun taking the chance to walk through the tubs of ice cream.

“We’re just regular, patriotic, ice cream loving citizens of the great country of South Korea.” Seungjun shrugs. The flavours are pretty unique, in name at least, and seem inspired by garden plants. There’s even a basil flavour, that looks like a frozen pasta cream sauce.

“And for the first order of business, I’d like to sample all my options, because knowledge is power.” Namjoon nods, leaning against the glass next to Seungjun. “Hurry up now peasant, haven’t got all day.”

“What kind of democracy has peasants.” Yoongi sighs, but leans over to grab a bucket of tasting spoons from under the counter. The bucket itself is has a holographic sheen with white snowflakes covering the surface, and Seungjun can’t help but break out into giggles again. He almost misses the first spoon Yoongi literally throws at him.

“Thai Cinnamon.” Yoongi recites, and Seungjun is surprised by the spicy-sweet flavour combination. “Green Bean Float.”

Yoongi stops reading the flavour names after a while, when he realises Seungjun and Namjoon have nothing of substance to comment, and has to stop halfway through their sampling to help some actual customers, but otherwise they make it through most of the cooler before Seungjun finds one that he likes.

“This one!” Seungjun mumbles over the spoonful of ice cream in his mouth, savouring the last bit of flavour before it melts. “I can taste the leaf. Is this the basil?”

“You already had that one.” Yoongi groans. “Lemme see… I just handed you the mint one. Muddled mint.”

“I didn’t like it.” Namjoon frowns. “It tasted like a leaf.”

“That was the best part.” Seungjun argues. “I don’t usually like mint because it tastes like toothpaste. But this one tasted like actual mint leaves.”

“Is that what you’re getting then?” Namjoon asks, and Seungjun nods.

“The chocolate was okay but I can get chocolate anywhere.” Seungjun reasons. “What are you getting?”

“Honestly I’m full after all that tasting.” Namjoon teases, not expecting Yoongi to start cornering him and grabbing for his wallet. Seungjun watches them struggle for a couple of moments, tossing all their sample spoons into the trash.

“Seungjun!” Namjoon calls, tossing a plain leather wallet through the air, and Namjoon can’t throw for shit but Seungjun picks it off the floor and immediately takes a shiny Mastercard out.

“I want three scoops of the mint.” Seungjun calls, a satisfied Yoongi comes strolling back shortly after.

Yoongi’s shift doesn’t end until five, but the owner’s son is working and lets him off early since no one wants ice cream for dinner and things are running slow. They head out after Seungjun’s finished his cone, and make Namjoon pay for meat before they head back in the evening.

Seungjun has a tendency to obsess over things—doing things like wearing the same shirt for four days straight, eating the same meal for a week on end, watching the same movie multiple times in theatres if he enjoys it enough. The ghost of herby mint ice cream follows him around constantly after the first trip they make to Piney Cone, and shitty decor be damned Seungjun ends up stopping by for a small cone every other day after his shift. “I don’t know why I’m the one who gets shit for working here when they pay me to be here and you’re here on your own.” Yoongi sighs every time Seungjun walks in, heading to the last cooler with a sugar cone in hand.

“Maybe I should take your job.” Seungjun laughs, petting Yoongi’s mint green mop of hair just to rile him up. “But I have to admit, it suits you more. You’re probably on the shorter end of the spectrum, even for fairies.”

For all the shit Yoongi talks about his workplace, he doesn’t hate it as much as he says he does because he’s almost always working Seungjun goes in. Seungjun hasn’t a single conversation with any of the other employees there, even though he’s pretty sure there’s someone else behind the counter whenever he visits Yoongi, though they probably recognise him, until the one time Yoongi calls with a cold that’s probably related to the exam he has the next day.

“Welcome to Piney Cone!” Seungjun hears when he walks in, and expects to see a grouchy business major staring back at him but sees a new face instead.

“Oh, hey.” Seungjun nods, feeling a bit out of his element.

“You’re Yoongi hyung’s friend, right?” The boy asks, and Seungjun squints at the glittery nametag on the worker’s chest to make out the words

‘Jihun.’ “Nice to meet you, I’m the other scooper on shift.”

“Yeah, I’m Seungjun; nice to meet you. Is he not in today?” Seungjun asks, scratching the back of his head.

“He called in today, so I’m at the register.” Jihun grins sheepishly. “I’m guessing you want a scoop of mint?”

“The usual.” Seungjun nods, surprised when Jihoon starts walking to the last cooler, no cone in hand, and bends down to grab a large pink cup with a dome lid out of the cooler.

“We had a birthday party here earlier so we actually ran out, but this was the end of the tub. You can just take it.” Jihun slides the cup across the counter, frosty plastic meeting Seungjun’s fingertips when he reaches out to catch it.

“Oh, thanks.” Seungjun nods, looking up to meet Jihun’s eye for the first time.

He’s honoured that someone would remember his order, even if it’s a random ice cream shop worker he’s never met before in his life. It’s a nice feeling, to be noticed, context be damned, and Jihun seems like a nice guy. He’s almost as tall as Seungjun, with a friendly neighbourhood smile, and Seungjun doesn’t mind the sound of the other’s voice. _“Maybe this is what they mean by special?”_ Seungjun thinks, sparing a glance down at the ice cream. He’s brushed a lot of hands reaching for drinks, some intentional and some not. He’s stood behind a lot of people in line, made eye contact with a lot of strangers strolling down the street, introduced himself to everyone he’s sat by in every course at university so far. But this is the first time it feels like the universe has acknowledged him back.

Maybe it’s because Seungjun woke up late for work today, and has been feeling off all day. Maybe it’s because he’s starving, and the stomach-brain chemistry feedback mechanisms aren’t where they should be. Maybe it’s because Seungjun’s 22 now, older than both his father and grandfather were when the gears of fate worked in their favour, and he feels a little old to be hearing stories of his grandfather’s memories instead of making any of his own. But this is the first time that door had seemed like it was an option, and Seungjun’s scared it will disappear again, so he musters all the confidence his nice slacks and freshly ironed shirt will allow him and smiles back at Jihun, who’s starting to look a little mystified by his silence.

“Did he get your flavour wrong? He was pretty sure it was the mint.” Jihun laughs awkwardly, inching back from the counter slightly when Seungjun’s reaction is delayed.

“Will you marry me?” Seungjun chokes out, abruptly.

“What?” Jihun responds, furrowing his brows before an easy smile takes over. “Oh, it was the mint then? I’m glad you like the recipe so much. My mom came up with it, I’ll let her know!” He laughs. “It was nice to meet you, Seungjun.”

It feels like today should be special after that confession, after that declaration, but Seungjun doesn’t quite know how to process the exchange mentally as he walks home. The muddled mint scoop of fate is clutched in his right hand, and the condensation drips down to bounce of his loafers in small pings. For the first time since his prepubescent days he isn’t making eye contact with as many strangers as possible, considering a trip to Seven to scope out potential partners, or carrying the Sci-Fi book of the week in his hands instead of book bag.

“I’m back!” Seungjun calls once he gets home, sliding his loafers off, and moves to go put the ice cream in the freezer.

“Hey!” His mom calls from the kitchen, a giant pot of barley tea brewing. “You got ice cream again? How old are you now? If you eat too much it’s going to sit like a brick in your calves.” His mother chides, shaking her head.

“That or it’ll catch up to you in your forties.” His father calls from the living room, where what sounds like Inkigayo is playing on the television.

It feels strange to bring it up now, when they’re talking about something else, so he swallows the words and changes into sweats, noting that he had forgotten his watch, and Jihun might have said had he not. He joins his father and brother on the couch, drinks the tea his mother brings over as an appetizer, and doesn’t say much even after his grandfather comes home from the stretching exercises he does in the lobby with some other elders. His father asks if he’s been feeling okay, and Seungjun just nods, wondering how he should bring it up.

Part way through their dinner is how it happens.

“You’re not eating much.” Seungjun’s father notes, picking up some kimchi shoving it in Seungjun’s bowl. “Are you sure he’s feeling alright?”

“He’s fine, it’s all that damn ice cream.” His mom argues, rolling her eyes. “It’s spoiling his appetite.”

“Isn’t it a little childish to eat ice cream every day?” His brother chimes in, eating a giant slab of beef whole and sticking his tongue out when Seungjun makes a face at him.

“It’s been cold recently.” His dad continues, chewing on a couple of bean sprouts. “Maybe-”

“I’m actually,” Seungjun starts, setting down his chopsticks. “I’m in- I have… That’s… There’s somebody.” Seungjun concludes. “At the ice cream shop. That I go to.”

“Somebody?” His brother repeats immediately, mouth still full. “Somebody who. Somebody what. Somebody where.”

“Somebody…” Seungjun continues.

“Somebody you’re interested in?!” Seungjun’s dad interrupts, setting down his chopsticks as well.

“From… the first time right? The first time you saw him?” Seungjun’s grandfather joins them, eyes widening.

“Um…” Seungjun thinks, rolling his lips inwards, before nodding.

“How _dare_ you!” His mom cries immediately, standing up and pointing her spoon at him accusingly. “My own son! My own flesh and blood!”

“You hear that!” His grandfather roars, jumping up from his seat to the window near their sink. “You hear that Oh!” He continues, opening the window.

“How could you do this to me?!” His mother cries. “What did I do to deserve this?!”

“Who’s got a deadbeat grandson now you shitty bat!” His grandfather cries into the alleyway between high rises. “You’re the shitty bat! You are!”

“Is he ugly?” His brother asks, having stood up and out of his seat to shake Seungjun’s frozen arm. “That would be sick, if he was really ugly.”

His family does eventually calm down, after the shock wears off, and his dad stiffly wishes him well and his mom does too, resigned.

Seungjun’s personal obsessions don’t last too long, maybe a couple of weeks, and the taste of muddled mint is starting to get old, but his grandfather starts giving him ice cream money when he notices that Seungjun comes straight home from work one day.

“I know you’re busy, and working on top of school must be tough, but love isn’t easy.” The old man explains, gruff and shoving a couple of ten thousand won bills into Seungjun’s palm.

“Grandpa-”

“I know I always tell you about the party where I proposed on the roadside with flowers, but that’s not he whole story you know.” The old man continues, shaking his head and patting Seungjun on the cheek. “We fought a lot, even before your father was born. We fought about her parents, about my parents, about whether we’d give them money, about how much money we’d give them. Your dad used to get beat up in elementary school and I wanted him to solve things on his own, but your grandmother was dead set on busing right on up there herself with a broom and butcher’s knife and teaching those boys a lesson.”

“Grandpa.” Seungjun repeats, bills resting in his palms while his grandpa glares, daring him to resist.

“This is the just the start for you two, the honeymoon period. You should see each other often, get to know each other, so you have something tying you two together when you start fighting.” His grandfather finishes, slapping Seungjun’s cheek a few more times before standing. “Good talk. Got me in the mood to go yell at that Oh bastard again. Bring the guy over for dinner sometime, okay? I wanna meet the kid.”

Out of respect for the glassy eyes his grandpa gets talking about his late wife, and the bitterness in his mother’s voice when she asks him how his day has been, Seungjun decides to step up his awkward half-confessing and go full speed forward with this mess.

“Seungjun.” Yoongi nods when he walks into Piney Cone, about to turn and grab a sugar cone before he notices the craft paper wrapped shrub in his arms. “What the fuck is that?”

“Is Jihun in today?” Seungjun asks, approaching the counter and resting a knee against it to try and control his nerves.

“Jihun? Yeah that kid’s always here. Why?” Yoongi asks, eyeing the bouquet for a few moments before realisation dawns on him. “Oh hell no, are you serious?”

“Why isn’t he at the counter today?” Seungjun continues, turning red when a devious smile grows on Yoongi’s face.

“We’re out of waffle cones, he’s making some in the back while things are slow.” Yoongi all but laughs. “Are you serious? You’re not just chasing that ass for free ice cream, are you?”

“I already asked him out but he didn’t take me seriously.” Seungjun sighs, pouting when Yoongi snorts.

“This is unreal. I can’t believe this is happening. I actually can’t believe the entire campus doesn’t know at this point, with your whole manhwa romance bullshit.” Yoongi sighs.

“Hey, how are things going out here?” Jihun returns then, through the baby blue swinging doors with a tray of waffle cones, stopping in his tracks when he sees Seungjun. “Um.”

“Hi. Seungjun again. Will you go on a date with me?” Seungjun asks, wincing slightly and holding the bouquet forward.

“Oh. Hi.” Jihun nods, resisting slightly when Yoongi rips the tray of waffle cones out of his hands. “You were serious?”

“He’s hella fucking serious.” Yoongi choruses, shoving Jihun closer to the counter.

“Will you go on a date with me?” Seungjun echos.

“Um… Sorry.” Jihun sighs, trying to fight Yoongi off as he tries to push Jihun’s arms forward to take the bouquet. “Also I can’t take that. It’s, um, not food safe.”

“Don’t give up.” Yoongi comforts Seungjun, emptying a bucket for the bouquet to go in. Jihun had bid goodbye and made a beeline back to kitchen, leaving Seungjun standing there awkwardly. “He’ll turn around yet.”

*     *     *

 

After Seungjun gets back into the habit of visiting the cafe, he’s there daily, much to Jihun’s chagrin. Jihun had been going along with Seungjun’s confessions and strange presents relatively easily at first, still not really taking Seungjun’s stubbornness seriously, so Seungjun starts being a bit more obnoxious about his affections. Bringing in a speaker system to sing near the counter, to the delight of any students visiting, dancing in front of the cooler, presenting the other with more bouquets. When Jihun’s expression starts to strain as soon as he’s made aware of Seungjun’s presence, the latter starts to wonder if the message is finally getting across.

“Why exactly do you like me again?” Jihun huffs, scooping a Strawberry Matcha sundae for two high school girls.

“It was love at first sight.” Seungjun grins, leaning against the cooler glass with his own mint cone. He had gotten sick of the flavour for a while, but after powering through it’s grown on him again. “Besides, don’t try and tell me you didn’t notice me. You were the one who saved me the last of the mint ice cream.”

“That wasn’t me.” Jihun insists.

“Excuses, excuses.” Seungjun brushes the rejection off. “One date, how could that hurt?”

“Because you’d probably start calling me your husband after one date you psycho.” Jihun accuses, hanging the girls their sundae as Yoongi rings them up. “You’ve been coming here every day for months, and then one day you want to date me? Yoongi hyung told you my parents owned the place didn’t he. Besides, I read about your type on the news all the time. No way in hell I’m going on a date.”

“Actually you did.” Seungjun corrects, already accustomed to picking and choosing what parts of the conversation he wants to hear. “When you said your mom made the mint flavour. This is foreshadowing for a good relationship with my future in-”

“I’m going to stop you right there you creep.” Jihun reaches over the counter to shove Seungjun’s cone into his face. “The last thing I need is you meeting my parents and my mom misunderstanding.”

“You'll come around.” Seungjun sing-songs. “Are you seeing someone else right now? Is that why you’re being so stubborn?”

“I’d call you the stubborn one.” Jihun rolls his eyes.

“He’s very single!” Yoongi chimes in, coming over to thrown an arm over Jihun. “Just yesterday he was complaining about how many couples were coming in for dates.”

“I’m your boss you traitor.” Jihun threatens, throwing a chokehold around Yoongi.

“I am literally the solution to all of your problems.” Seungjun cries. “ _We_ could be one of the gross couples that goes on dates here!”

“Going on a date here would be like going on a date in my living room.” Jihun wrinkles his nose.

“So you agree if I take you somewhere else?” Seungjun perks up at the loophole.

“Hell no.” Jihun retorts immediately.

“One day you’ll give in.” Seungjun replies wistfully, throwing a gangly arm to clutch the cooler lid.

“To peer pressure? Blackmail?” Jihun raises an eyebrow.

“To love.” Seungjun responds, blinking rapidly at Jihun only to be met with another eye roll.

“Can’t you just put him out of his misery?” Yoongi interjects, shoving Jihun over to grab a lavendar peach sample for a family of three. “All you have to do is be the most obnoxious date ever and maybe he’ll stop being a public nuisance.”

“I don’t date needlessly.” Jihun replies.

“Needlessly? What are you, saving yourself for marriage and all that?” Yoongi chortles.

“Kang Kyunsang? Kang Jihun?” Seungjun giggles, and Yoongi reaches over the counter to give him a high five.

“No, I just don’t date random people.” Jihun shrugs. “I’m busy and dating is expensive. I’m not going to waste time on someone I don’t like.”

“Ouch.” Seungjun winces.

“No offense, but it’s not like we’re soulmates or something. You’ll get over it.” Jihun shrugs.

“I call him the romanticist but it turns out you’re actually the dumb one.” Yoongi concludes. “You two are stupid and perfect for each other.”

“We kind of are soulmates.” Seungjun argues, but doesn’t continue when Jihun expression looks skeptical.

Jihun is increasingly convinced as the weeks go on though.

“One date.” Seungjun begs, bouncing on his feet as he tries to bore holes into Jihun’s nose with his gaze.

“And you’ll leave me alone forever?” Jihun groans, laying on the ground and leaning against the coolers from behind the counter—all in an effort to avoid Seungjun’s gaze.

“Of course not. Then we’d go on our second date.” Seungjun reasons, giggling when Jihun bangs the coolers in annoyance. “Third date, fourth date, fifth date, moving in together, adopting kids, the whole shebang.”

“You are the bane of my existence.” Jihun moans.

“Get off the ground; it’s not food safe.” Yoongi scolds, kicking Jihun in the side gently only for Jihun to try and bit his shin. “Oh my God, what the fuck?! Are you biting me?! What are you, a dog?”

“I am losing my mind.” Jihun declares, pointing a dripping ice cream scoop in Seungjun’s direction. “Everything is your fault.”

“I am simply an ice cream loving citizen of the great country of-” Seungjun starts, breaking out into giggles again when Jihun starts clutching his sideburns.

“How do I make you leave. How do I make you hate me.” Jihun groans, scaring the mother and her elementary school child sitting in the corner closest to teh counter.

“Well you’ve got quite a few options.” Yoongi whispers, fake serious, throwing an arm around Jihun so they’re heads are huddled together. “First, you could be a pedophile.”

“I would definitely not want to date a pedophile.” Seungjun nods.

“Next.” Jihun groans.

“Next, you could be a murderer.” Yoongi continues, and Jihun immediately narrows his eyes in Seungjun’s direction.

“Nothing is im-”

“Think about your parents.” Yoongi interrupts, slapping Jihun on the cheek. “That one is also a no. Lastly, you could be married.”

“I don’t want to be a home wrecker, though it’s hard with this face.” Seungjun adds, oozing despondence.

“Marriage.” Jihun considers, brow furrowing in concentration.

“And since you’re out of-” Yoongi moves on quickly, but Jihun stands up immediately.

“I can do this.” Jihun announces, running past the swinging doors and returning shortly with another in tow. “This one. Boyfriend.”

“Really?” Seungjun replies, unimpressed.

“Really?” The new guy echos, turning to look at Jihun.

Seungjun seems to have really stopped using his eyes since he confessed to Jihun, giving them a much deserved break, but he’s literally never seen the new guy in the store before. He’s taller than Yoongi, but just a few centimeters shorter than Jihun, with a large nose and round, soft eyes that remind Seungjun of a happy puppet. He gaze is wandering, adjusting to the new context he has just been thrust into, and Seungjun can’t help but find it a bit cute.

“Is this a gag or something? Don’t take it too far.” Yoongi rolls his eyes, shoving Jihun in the shoulder. “There’s no way anyone would believe you right now.”

“He is 100% my boyfriend.” Jihun argues.

“Eh, then why haven’t you brought him up until now?” Seungjun presses.

“Because I didn’t want you to go after him too.” Jihun replies, not missing a beat.

“Are we really doing this right now?” Yoongi mutters, in disbelief. “Inseong, just pretend nothing happened, go back.” Yoongi grabs Inseong’s wrist, dragging him back to the kitchen, but Jihun stops them both.

“His name is Jung Inseong and we’ve been dating for four months now.” Jihun continues, putting an arm around Inseong’s shoulder. “I hope you can support our relationship.”

“I… don’t know what to say.” Seungjun replies, looking back and forth behind Jihun’s annoyed expression and Inseong’s deer in headlights look.

“I’m just going to head back-” Inseong breaks the brief silence, moving to walk away again, but Jihun ends up pulling him back.

“Please support our relationship.” Jihun repeats, before bringing his hands to cup Inseong’s cheeks and then planting one on him, ignoring Seungjun’s help and Yoong’s shriek.

Jihun and Inseong end up against the coolers, Yoongi climbing over the counter to avoid them while Seungjun stares on, expression blank.

“That’s a lot of tongue.” Seungjun notes, when Yoongi’s within in hearing distance again.

“Food safe my ass.” Yoongi groans. “He is never going to live this down.”

Seungjun leaves shortly after, Yoongi breaking the two up with a few bangs on the cooler, thankfully before any actual customers walk in.

“Hi, my name is Jung Inseong and I apologise for what happened last time.” Inseong greets him brightly at the cash register the next day, Seungjun arriving even though he had considered turning around at the door. “Jihun is in the back of the kitchen and reflecting upon himself.”

“Hey.” Seungjun nods stiffly, not quite knowing how to address Inseong after yesterday’s first impression.

“Don’t be fooled by this smile though.” Inseong teases, winking at Seungjun’s discomfort. “We’re love rivals now, so you better sleep with one eye open at night.”

“I think the ribbing was starting to actually bother him.” Yoongi chimes in, snacking on some m&m’s from the topping jar. “Maybe you should lighten up for a bit.”

“Or forever.” Inseong adds, his grin taking on a sarcastic glimmer.

“I didn’t think he’s be upset.” Seungjun replies sheepishly.

“Yeah, some random guy coming into where he works every day to harass him for hours on end.” Inseong shrugs, tone sardonic. “He’s a real weirdo, that one.”

“Sorry?” Seungjun responds, wincing when Inseong’s smile darkens further.

“I’m not the one who needs to hear that.”

“You are the one he planted one on though.” Yoongi chuckles, going for casual, and Inseong laughs at that.

“Don’t be too jealous though lover boy, I didn’t enjoy it all.” Inseong teases. “Frankly, it felt borderline incestuous and I’d like to pretend it never happened.”

“Are you his brother?” Seungjun asks, a bit scared for the response.

“No, that would actually incestuous.” Inseong explains. “We grew up next door neighbours though. I’ve been working here since his parents built the place; these flavours were scooped with illegal middle school labour back in the day.” Inseong is actually smiling now, so Seungjun’s comfortable enough to tap on the glass near the mint.

“One day you’re going to start gaining weight like a normal human being.” Yoongi groans, grabbing a metal scoop and sugar cone. “One fucking day…”

“Do you actually like ice cream that much?” Inseong asks, ringing the order up. “You’ve been coming for months now. What do your parents think?”

“His parents support this fixation.” Yoongi yells, his breath making the cooler glass go cloudy. “His grandfather gives him pocket money to pursue his one true love.”

“Are you actually into Jihun?” Inseong asks, taking Seungjun’s debit card and sticking it into the chip reader. “It’s not just like a hobby?”

“Hobby?” Seungjun asks, kind of offended. “What do you mean ‘do you actually like Jihun?’ Of course I like him, it’s not like I’m here eating ice cream every day for fun.” Seungjun explains.

“Huh, really?” Inseong asks, head tilting as he thinks. “I thought you were making fun of him or something.”

“I don’t have this much time to dedicate to a prank.” Seungjun grumbles, taking the cone from Yoongi.

“You shouldn’t have this much time to spend eating ice cream to begin with.” Yoongi lectures. “You’re in college for fuck’s sake. Make some friends. Arrange some meetings. Stop going to children’s ice cream shops. Get a job.”

“I have a job!” Seungjun whines. “It’s not like I’m here all day. Just in the afternoon for a little bit. I still have friends. We’re friends, c’mon.” Seungjun continues, trying to grab Yoongi’s arm while the shorter dodges him.

“Why are you so obsessed with Jihunie anyway?” Inseong narrows his eyes. “Are you in university too? What year are you? You’re older, aren’t you? Do you have a thing for younger guys?”

“What? No I don’t have a younger guy thing. I was born the same year as Yoongi. 93.” Seungjun answers.

“You’re ignoring the first question.” Inseong chides. “Why are you so obsessed with Jihunie anyway?”

“I…” Seungjun trails off, deciding not to tell Inseong that he was actually just trying to remember if Jihun was born in 94 or 95, and tries to come up with a satisfactory answer. “I don’t know a lot about him, but I want to know more.” Seungjun concludes.

“All of you are disgusting.” Yoongi concludes, shaking his head and sitting on the counter.

“That’s what dating is about, right?” Seungjun asks, seeking Inseong’s approval.

“Hm, fine.” Inseong acquises. “You get one star.”

“One star?” Seungjun repeats, narrowing his eyes. “One star? Out of five? Out of ten?”

“One star.” Inseong grins, smile returning to his face. “Just take it.”

Seungjun ends up running into Inseong at the cash register the next day, and for the next week after that too. “Jihun switched shifts with me because you annoy him.” Inseong had declared point blank, and Seungjun felt guilty but Inseong’s jarring bright grin had lessened the blow. They say that three weeks is long enough to develop habits, and it seems to be accurate because Seungjun returns daily, even though Jihun is still hiding in the back, and sometimes brings an iPad so he can do reading for courses while he eats.

“There are nearly 50 thousand cafes in the metro Seoul area.” Yoongi complains, watching Seungjun scroll through articles. “Why the fuck are you here.”

“I think it’s the lamps.” Seungjun calls back, setting his iPad down and reaching that hand up to pet one of the lamps covered in plastic fringe. “They really foster higher level brain activity.” Seugjun continues petting, enjoying sound crunchy plastic makes, when he touches the base of the lamp and yelps because it’s hot.

“Higher level brain activity.” Yoongi repeats drlyly.

Inseong is more or less a permanent cashier now, even though he’d been in charge of actually mixing all the ice cream together earlier, and sometimes he’ll head to the back and leave a swinging door open so Seungjun can hear Inseong teasing Jihun about not having any job to return too.

“Adults love me. Teenagers love me. Kids love me.” Inseong declares, playing with a toddler on his lap as she attacks her blood orange sorbet like a puppy lapping at water. “I am the face of this ice cream shop. What would the Kim’s do without me?”

“Kids love ice cream.” Seungjun argues. “You just happen to have ice cream. Good for you.”

“Ah.” The toddle responds ambiguously, slamming her hand down on the table repeatedly until her hand accidentally lands inside her ice cream and on the upswing she launches the entire thing into Inseong’s face. Seungjun can’t help the volume of the snort he lets out, or his continuous loud guffaws afterwords.

“I’m so sorry.” Her mother cries, running over from where she’d been paying for their food.

“It’s fine.” Inseong smiles, ignoring Seungjun’s laugh. “I’ll go grab you two a refill! I’m glad she’s so excited about her ice cream!”

“Do you want to sweep while you’re down there?” Yoongi asks, watching Seungjun lose balance and fall out of his chair, still laughing. “You’re an embarrassment. A public nuisance. It really wasn’t that funny.”

Seungjun is still laughing when Inseong comes back; the latter takes one look at Seungjun collapsed on the ground and sighs before turning back around.

 

*     *     *

 

“How are things going with the ice cream shop boy?” Seungjun’s grandfather asks during breakfast on Thursday, and his mother lets out a long-suffering-borderline-pig-like-extremely-discontent groan immediately in response.

“Is this what morning sickness felt like?” She groans, clutching her abdomen and leaning on his father’s shoulder. “It’s been so long since Junki was born I’ve forgotten. Spare me.”

“Shut up you hag.” His grandfather interrupts her rambling, shoveling some jook into his mouth.

“It’s, um, going okay.” Seungjun stutters, hiding behind his cup of soy milk.

“Be careful.” Seungjun’s father chimes in, with an ambiguous seriousness that makes Seungjun and Junki choke on their food simultaneously.

“Dad!” Junki whines, throwing his spoon down and standing up. “It’s six! The last thing I want to hear about is hyung’s-”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re going to say.” Seungjun interrupts immediately. “But my love life is absolutely no where. We’re kind of friends. He’s busy. Classes and work and stuff.”

“Sit down before you mother actually vomits.” His mom yells, swatting at Junki’s arm until he sits back down.

“That’s no good.” Seungjun’s grandpa sighs, picking at the mackerel. “Kids these days are so busy with their work and their phones and their Internet. Nobody has time to actually _live_ anymore.”

“Or they could go through school and get decent jobs and support themselves before settling down.” Seungjun’s mother argues.

“It’s important to have hobbies outside of studying.” Seungjun’s father compromises. “Be it dating, a sport, or anything else. I’m sure Seungjun knows the importance of having a variety of life experiences.”

“He’s eaten ice cream every day for the last two months.” Junki interjects. “You don’t need to encourage him to be even more irresponsible.”

“I am very responsible.” Seungjun whines at the accusation. “I always get only one scoop, and I only get a cone every other day.”  He doesn’t mention that he usually snacks on a cone on the way back on those ‘other’ days.

“You’re still meeting him at the ice cream shop?” Seungjun’s grandpa cries, horrified, and shaking his head. “That’s where he works! Shitty date. Don’t date where you work.” He lectures, jabbing his spoon at the table. “Take him somewhere else! Then you guys will get somewhere.”

 

“You should come to my school fair.” Junki adds, suddenly standing up again. He runs to grab his school bag from the foot of their kitchen counter. “You should buy them from me because I’m having competition with Heejun to see who can sell more tickets.”

“I’m not going on a date at your high school, that’s gross.” Seungjun wrinkles his nose.

“And then you should stop at my class’s event. We’re doing a maid cafe and selling Japanese foods. Spend lots of money; I know you get mad tips at work.” Junki continues, undeterred.

“I can’t believe teenagers actually talk like that.” Seungjun groans, horrified when his grandpa actually starts pulling out bills to pay Junki. “Grandpa, it’s fine! You don’t have to!”

“This sounds like a good idea.” His grandpa argues, throwing some bills in Junki’s direction despite Seungjun’s interference. “Return to your youth! Maybe that’ll spark something. And Junki, you better kick Heejun’s ass, you here me? His damned old man is already a public disturbance as is. Last thing he needs is an excuse to gloat even more.”

“See you tonight hyung!” Junki laughs, placing the tickets near Seungjun’s bowl of jook. He turns back to their grandpa before heading out the door. “I’ll make sure to report if hyung doesn’t show up today!”

“Why didn’t you stop at one.” Seungjun whines, turning back to his mom, who’s staring deeply into her bowl.

“Seungjun-ah, sometimes the trials we go through make us better people.” She preaches, never looking up from her soup.

“Are you and dad at least coming?” He asks, and gets a loud snort from his father in response.

“Seungjun, you’re ten years too old for us to be chaperoning your date.” His father responds, easily the happiest one at the table. “Since all three of you will be gone tonight, your mom and I are going to have a date night.”

“There’s a nice Vietnamese restaurant that opened in Daejeon that we want to try.” His mom echos, still talking to her soup.

“Have fun!” His dad cheers, grinning brightly. “All those high school memories.”

“High school was hell and your dad is just as bat shit crazy as you are.” Yoongi laughs, while Seungjun bemoans the tickets in front of them as ice cream melts down his arm.

“Where is Inseong? He’s a good friend. You’re an asshole. No support whatsoever.” Seungjun whines, rubbing his cheek against the counter.

“That’s not food safe.” Jihun interrupts their pity party, ceramic cup and plastic spoons in hands.

“Jihun?” Seungjun realises, standing back up.

This is probably his only chance to show up with said man in tow to his brother’s dumb ass school festival, and not have hell to deal with at breakfast tomorrow morning, but Jihun’s expression is hesitant and he’s probably not completely sold on Seungjun yet. Seungjun ends up keeping his mouth shut and going for a smile that conveys ‘friendly but not dangerous or an asshole.’

“Inseong is here!” Inseong breaks the silence, jumping up from behind Jihun. “Jihun’s mom has a new recipe, you should try it! Seungjun hyung I think you’ll like it; it’s a banana base.”

“I don’t actually like bananas.” Seungjun points out, but accepts the plastic green spoon Jihun offers him anyway.

“You’re always talking about how you have banana milk running through your veins instead of blood though.” Inseong argues.

“He likes the fake shit, that’s what it is.” Yoongi laughs at Seungjun’s expression after the spoon goes into his mouth.

“It’s honestly not bad.” Seungjun placates. “I just don’t like bananas… and it’s a lot bananas.”

“That’s fine, I thought it was a lot too. Too much banana.” Jihun wrinkles his nose, resembling a snuffly puppy, before he takes Seungjun’s spoon and heads back to the kitchen.

“He’s not mad at you anymore.” Inseong says as soon as the swinging doors are shut again. “Just doesn’t know what to do with you.”

“That’s good.” Seungjun nods, satisfied.

“You’re really dedicated though.” Inseong notes, grabbing a rag under the counter to wipe at Seungjun’s sticky arm. “Are you finally getting sick of ice cream? Have your taste buds had enough?”

“All food is good food.” Seungjun refutes; he’s nothing if not stubborn.

“Except bananas?” Inseong retorts, finished and returning the rag to the bucket.

“Except bananas.” Seungjun agrees, feeling a little puerile, but brushes it off

“Oooh, are these movie tickets?” Inseong asks, seeing said tickets on the counter. “Yoongi hyung, do you have a date? Has someone finally melted that ice cold heart of yours?”

“Don’t make me laugh.” Yoongi rolls his eyes. “First of all, I have no problem getting a date.”

“Of course not!” Seungjun and Inseong both respond, at the same time, and they exchange high fives while Yoongi curses them out under his breath.

“Secondly, these are Seungjun’s. He’s got a hot date tonight at the local high school festival.” Yoongi finishes, and Inseong immediately spins to narrow his eyes at Seungjun.

“Traitor.” He hisses dramatically. “Are you cheating on our hyung?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Seungjun rolls his eyes. “My brother gave me tickets and my parents want me to support him.” Seungjun explains, figuring the actual answer of ‘fifty years ago my grandpa saw me grandma on the side of the road’ might be a little heavy hitting given the context.’

“Who are you taking then.” Inseong asks again, and Seungjun immediately starts pouting at Yoongi.

“No way in hell.” Yoongi responds immediately.

“All you have to do is show up and eat.” Jihun begs. “Think about my old, ailing, grandfather.”

“Your grandfather is more virile than most high schoolers I know you ain’t pulling that shit on me.” Yoongi refutes.

“All you have to do is show up and eat?” Inseong parrots, looking up. “I’m not doing anything after I get off; I’ll go with you!”

“Oh, really?” Seungjun asks, taken aback.

“Sure, I like free food.” Inseong shrugs. “What time does the festival go until?” Inseong asks, grabbing a ticket and pouting. “It doesn’t say.”

“I don’t know when it starts but it’ll probably go until at least eleven. They usually end with fireworks and all that. When do you get off work?” Seungjun mumbles, taking the tickets from Inseong and shuffling through them as he talks.

“Hm, I get off at eight. Does that work?” Inseong asks. “I can get Jihun to let me off early too. I have photos of him cross dressing in middle school.” Inseong whispers that last part, and Seungjun notices his lashes fluttering as he speaks.

“Don’t tell him shit like that, who knows what he’s thinking about right now.” Yoongi laughs, guffaws louder when Seungjun realises what they’re talking about.

“Eh, those are top secret.” Inseong laughs, hands clapping gleefully when he notices Seungjun turning redder. “I will die before handing those over since he’d kill me anyway.”

“Eight is fine.” Seungjun replies, changing the subject. “I’ll be here at eight. See you then.” Seungjun finishes, bolting out of the shop, Yoongi’s chuckles audible until he shuts the hobbit door behind him.

He has some work to do before the festival, but Seungjun’s thoughts keep drifting so he eventually gives up and grabs his tablet to play Snake Blocker until the smell of ramen lures him out of his room, and he sees his mom slurping noodles, guilty expression when she catches his eye.

“Don’t tell your dad.” She says, not letting him steal any until he nods. “He’s so excited about this Vietnamese place but our reservation isn’t until nine. Who eats dinner at nine?!”

“You can just eat two dinners.” Seungjun agrees. “Two dinners is better than one.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on your soul mate date or whatever? At Junki’s high school?” She snickers, raising her eyebrow inquisitively. “Is everything in lala land not all roses and daisies?”

“I don’t think that’s an expression.” Seungjun retorts. “In any language. But it’s fine. I’m picking him up at eight.”

“In that?” She asks, looking at his faded sweatpants and BEAST fancafe t-shirt that’s a bit too short. “I’ll tell you right now, it’s going to be a really short date.”

“I don’t want to hear that from you.” Seungjun whines, eyeing her pajama shorts and sock/slipper combo, laughing when she slaps him for impudence.

“I’m married, this is called being realistic!” She lectures, threatening jabbing her chopsticks together. “Your dad is obsessed with those soup noodles and they splash everywhere! The oil is so hard to wash out and I smell like limes for three days… why can’t he have normal food tastes…”

“I’m changing before I leave.” Seungjun shrugs. “Until I just want to roll around… Lay around…”

Seungjun’s mom ends up letting him finish off the ramen, and he ends up watching videos on YouTube until seven thirty rolls around. He changes into what he was wearing at work—slacks and a dress shirt—but decides last minute that it’s too much and has just enough time to change into denim before running out the door,kind of late. He spends most of the speed-walk there trying to figure out if the watch is too much and beating himself up for forgetting to put cologne on, and ends up taking the watch off and slipping it into his back pocket before he opens the door.

“Welcome to-oh it’s you.” Yoongi cuts his greeting short and just nods. “You can’t possibly want more ice cream.”

“School festival.” Seungjun reminds Yoongi, and regrets it because Yoongi bursts out laughing again and has a slap happy smile on the entire time he’s taking orders. “Is Inseong here?”

“Inseong is here!” Inseong answers, jumping up from behind Seungjun and scaring the shit out of him. “You’re late; I’m going to have to deduct ten points.”

“Ten points? Out of how many?” Seungjun asks. Inseong and his point systems.

“Doesn't matter. Let’s go. Where is the high school anyway?” Inseong asks, as he pushes Seungjun out the door. “Bye Yoongi hyung! Be nice to the children!”

Junki’s high school is close to their apartment, maybe a ten minute subway ride, but it’s a bit further from the ice cream shop and they end up walking the last fifteen minutes to avoid getting on a transfer and the air is nice in the evening anyway. Seungjun doesn’t know how to process Inseong without an apron or scooper in his hand at first, but they fall into an easy conversation regarding Yoongi, the fact they’re at the same university, and Inseong’s strange coffee addiction.

“If you put that much milk in you should just drink milk.” Seungjun argues, a bit of a purist himself.

“It’s not the same; milk comes in cartons.” Inseong shakes his head. “It’s that feeling of holding a plastic cup, filled with ice and tan liquid, and walking down the street in the summer.”

“That has nothing to do with coffee.” Seungjun replies. “You could just put the milk in a cup.”

“No, no, not the same.” Inseong rejects. “It’s the feeling of going to a cafe and buying a plastic cup, filled with ice and tan liquid, and walking down the street in the summer. We can test this experiment later, I think I can smell the school from here.”

“There’s nothing to test.” Seungjun groans, but Inseong suddenly grabs his wrist and soon they’re running through the street, weaving through the increasingly thick crowds of families as they near the entrance. “I can’t get sweat stains on this shirt!”

“Stop acting your age!” Inseong shouts in response, barely audible over the crowd, jog quickening to a spring by the time they cross through the school gates and Seungjun almost trips over an elementary schooler as they pause for air on the walkway near the side of the gate.

“I still don’t know what that means.” Seungjun whines, fanning himself with his shirt collar.

“We’re in a high school! Regaining our youth!” Inseong cheers.

“High school was hell. I studied for the national exam for three years straight and haven’t opened a single book since I graduated.” Seungjun responds, and Inseong giggles in response.

“I was the same, probably. Except our basketball was always trying to scout me.” Inseong laughs harder when Seungjun raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know why I’m telling that to you though. Did you play sports?”

“Nah, it’s not like basketball was going to give me a better rank.” Seungjun shakes his head.

“Yeah, my dad told me if I gave to coach he’d kick me out.” Inseong agrees. “He was the first one in my family to go to university, so he was pretty stubborn about me going.”

“Same here.” Seungjun nods, high fiving the hand Inseong holds out. “My dad’s pretty chill though.”

“Yoongi hyung says your family is really close.” Inseong notes.

“All families are really close.” Seungjun qualifies. “And am I all that you two talk about?”

“You’re the most obnoxious thing we have in common.” Inseong points out, laughing when Seungjun glares. He may have finally found someone who laughs more than he does. “But he says you guys are like, freaky close.”

“I guess he’s right.” Seungjun admits, shoving Inseong to the right and towards a food stall selling jeon. “My parents always swore in front of us and told us to talk to treat them like friends, so besides some brief stints in high school we’ve always been pretty close.”

“Do they know why you’re always at Piney?” Inseong asks, pausing once they get to the line for the jeon. It’s relatively long since the festival’s well under way, but the initial rush of people is long gone. “Do you talk to them about relationships and shit?”

“Yeah, it was their idea… they know about Jihun and stuff.” Seungjun nods, Inseong following the action thoughtfully.

“Is that not weird?”

“I grew up seeing my parents’ relationship, so I don’t really mind showing them mine? If you can consider it a relationship.” Seungjun tries to explain, but Inseong still seems a bit cold to the idea.

“I guess my family’s just different. I don’t think I’d introduce them to anyone until I was sure we were going to get married or something.”

“So my grandpa has this thing…” Seungjun starts, and suddenly feels uncomfortable having this conversation outside, an auntie commenting on how short school skirts have gotten behind him and a crowd of six screaming elementary schoolers running around to the side.

“Go on.” Inseong encourages.

“So my grandpa has this thing… about soul mates.” Seungjun starts, slapping Inseong lightly on the nose a few times when he notices the other’s look of disgust. Even when Inseong moves his face around, he doesn’t get wrinkles—his features are too soft. Instead the skin just redistributes, plush as ever, and Seungjun gets the urge to pinch Inseong’s cheek so he does.

“Okay, okay, stop it!” Inseong shrieks, slapping his hand away. “I’m not judging, not at all, just keep going.”

“My grandpa fell in love with my grandmother at first sight in the middle of a road. He was on his way back from the old zoo in Changgyeonggoong Palace and she was on her way to a protest in the capital.” Seungjun continues, pausing for effect and continuing only after Inseong gives him an expression of feigned surprise. “His exact words were that her hair was glowing or something, and he’d looked up to catch her side profile. He blinked, once, twice, and then asked her out on the spot. They ended up going to the protest together and they ate together afterword.”

“He must have game.” Inseong comments, dragging Seungjun forward in line.

“Yeah, and then it was like that when my dad met my mom too. They saw each other at a party in university and then things just seemed to click. They got married right after.” Seungjun recalls, stopping to look at the menu once they’re close enough to read it. “Do you want anything?”

“I like the potato.” Inseong responds.

“I like the seafood.” Seungjun replies. “Should we get the variety set?”

“Eh, they don’t even have makgeolli.” Inseong whines. “I don’t want to eat that much. Let’s look around after.”

“This is a high school festival, serving makgeolli.” Seungjun mutters, but ordering a half serving of the potato and seafood for them both once they’re at the register. He’s about to hand her a five thousand won note when Inseong notices that his coin pouch is full, so Inseong steals the wallet and counts out their order in coins, before handing it off to an impatient auntie as Seungjun stands there with their jeon.

“If you keep collecting coins they’re eventually going to rip your wallet open.” Inseong lectures, trading Seungjun the wallet for his potato jeon.

“Is that from experience?” Seungjun asks, before taking a bite of the food.

“Maybe.” Inseong shrugs. “Keep going though, with your soulmate thing.”

“My _grandpa’s_ soul mate thing.” Seungjun corrects, but continues after chewing. “But there isn’t much to tell. Since my grandpa and dad both fell in love at first sight and got married happily afterward my grandpa thinks we’re blessed by some spirit or something.”

“Do you believe that?” Inseong asks, still skeptical. “That you and Jihun are going to end up married with two kids and a soundproof high rise?”

“I mean, who knows. I’ve heard stories about them since I was growing up.” Seungjun shrugs. “So I guess part of it is like how kids stick with their parent’s religion? And I don’t know if Jihun and I are going to get married… but…” Seungjun can’t finish that sentence in time, not sure what words he would use. Jihun’s a crush? First love? Unrequited love? None of those words seem accurate.

“Lemonade!” Inseong interrupts, barreling past Seungjun when he spots a juice stand. “The jeon made me thirsty, c’mon!”

After Inseong’s lemonade and Seungjun’s mango juice they spend most of the festival just walking circles around the food stalls—strolling the perimeters after they’ve bought food and circling back in for more when they’re done. Inseong’s stomach is equally a bottom-less pit and they end up trying half the stalls at least; none of the food is anything to write home about, but something about the poster board stalls and Christmas lights strung up on campus trees makes Seungjun both nostalgic and famished. He forgets that he’s supposed to report to Junki for attendance, too busy laughing at all the various sauce stains Inseong manages to accumulate on himself as they try to eat and walk at the same time, until they run into the brat in line for takoyaki.

“Hyung! You came!” Junki calls, and Seungjun spins around trying to find the voice before Inseong spins his head back forward and he spots his brother taste testing as someone he knows cooks the actual food.

“You cheated grandpa out of twenty thousand won, of course I came.” Seungjun rolls his eyes, ignoring the self satisfied look on Junki’s face.

“You brought him too!” Junki notices the hands on Seungjun’s head, which is Inseong’s cue to rip them off, but not in time. “Hi, I’m Park Junki.” Junki greets, running up to Inseong.

“Hi, I’m-”

“You’re Jihun; hyung talks about you all the time.” Junki laughs, flinching when Seungjun smacks him over the head. “Oh right, where are my manners.” Junki continues sarcastically, bowing ninety degrees before continuing. “Nice to meet you Jihun hyung. You’re almost as tall as Seungjun hyung, that should come in handy.”

“Right, I’m Jihun.” Inseong laughs, raising an eyebrow when Seungjun shoots him a guilty look. “Very Jihun.”

“Doesn’t your friend need help over there?” Seungjun asks, throwing an elbow over Junki’s shoulder and dragging him off. “And didn’t you have a maid cafe to run or something? If you’re slacking I’m going to be the one reporting to grandpa.”

“All the classrooms closed their stands, dumbass.” Junki answers. “The fireworks go up at ten and then everyone leaves.”

“Then have fun with your friends and leave us alone.” Seungjun demands, tightening his grip on Junki’s neck.

“Jeez, fine, won’t interrupt your date anymore.” Junki rolls his eyes, slipping from under Seungjun’s grip and running off before they get to the stand.

“You are really obsessed with Jihunie.” Inseong laughs, rolling his shoulders back as Seungjun walks back. “Every time I start to think you’re normal you start to give me yandere vibes again.”

“It was… it was my grandpa’s idea to try and meet Jihun outside the ice cream shop.” Seungjun explains. “He… takes the whole thing really seriously.”

“Ahhh, so I’m your dysfunctional relationship beard.” Inseong nods, shoulders rolling up again. “It’d be awkward if you were straight, because I definitely couldn’t pass for a Jihyun.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” Seungjun jokes, throwing an arm around Inseong’s shoulder. Inseong bites his hand for a couple of moments, but otherwise doesn’t protest. “I want dessert. You think they have hoddeok?”

“I think I saw a popsicle stand somewhere.” Inseong shakes his head, protesting. “I don’t think I could stand a popsicle right now, my mouth’s coated in oil.”

Inseong ends up half-picking Seungjun up in an effort to drag him away from the hoddeok cart, which is unsuccessful in all but getting dirt and on Seungjun’s work shirt, but he concedes and they end up in line at a popsicle cart instead. “These are fancy.” Seungjun can’t help but note, chin resting on Inseong’s shoulder as he reads through the menu. “We just had Chu Chu Bars. Now they’ve got these fancy Instagram popsicles with all these weird flavours.”

“Old.” Inseong calls, squeaking when Seungjun retaliates with a chin attack. “What were you expecting, being all grumpy like that.”

“We’re only one year apart.” Seungjun argues. “You definitely had Chu Chu Bars too.”

“You’re only allowed to use that argument if you drop hyung privileges.” Inseong retorts, getting slapped for his troubles.

“Insolent.”

“Debilitated.”

“Brat.”

“Fossil.”

“Child.”

“What do you want?” Inseong asks, realising that they have made their way to the front of the line. “Or do your senile eyes need me to read you the menu?”

“I want the choco pie flavour.” Seungjun responds, lighting up when the lady hands him a black and white swirled popsicle.

“I’ll take a mocha flavour.” Inseong chimes in, handing the lady a few notes and taking the popsicle she hands him. “And now that I think about it, I can’t believe you have room for more ice cream.”

“Popsicles and ice cream are completely different.” Seungjun argues, balancing the pop in his teeth as he tries to take off the plastic. “Not even in the same realm. Distant cousins.”

“Isn’t mint your favourite though?” Inseong asks, rolling his eyes and pulling the plastic off for him. Seungjun grins in lieu of a verbal thanks. “They had a mint one I think.”

“I don’t normally like mint.” Seungjun explains, biting off the top chunk of the pop when he notices it starting to drip. “But the one at Piney is different. It’s got actual leaves in it or something, it almost tastes like an herb?”

“I don’t like mint in general.” Inseong agrees. “It tastes like cold toothpaste.

“I’m the same way! But you might like the Piney one.” Seungjun argues. “Have you tried it?”

“Why would I try it? I don’t like mint.” Inseong responds.

“Tomorrow. Try it.” Seungjun insists. He licks a trail of the popsicle that’s dripped down his hand, but there’s a bitter aftertaste and his whole face scrunches up in response.

“Tomorrow? I’m not like you, I don’t eat ice cream every day.” Inseong replies, intonation funny since his head is almost turned upside down trying to catch the dripping popsicle.

“This is your fault.” Seungjun declares, giving up on the waste and standing with his feet apart so the popsicle doesn’t get on his sneakers. “Hoddeok wouldn’t have done this to me. If I finish first then we’re going to go get hoddeok after this.”

“What the fuck are you talking about.” Inseong whines, but giving up when Seungjun bites half the popsicle in one go. “You win. Let’s go get hoddeok. I want something savoury too, let’s see if they have fish cakes.”

“You mean I did that for nothing?” Seungjun protests, mouth full and in pain, stumbling forward as Inseong drags him by the belt loop.

“Hyung’s a dumbass.” Inseong agrees, strolling along as Seungjun struggles. “I think I see fishcakes, or some skewers, they’re by where we got the jeon.”

Seungjun abandons the remnants of his ice pop as soon as he spots a trash can, Inseong chanting ‘kind ice cream loving korean citizen’ behind him the entire time, and they get in line for the fishcake skewers first at Inseong’s cries of “haven’t you heard of savoury-sweet-savoury-sweet?” and “the line’s shorter so we can eat while waiting for popsicles.” They’re both starting to get tired and sweaty from all the hot food, and the wait for fish cakes is a comfortable silence. After they get the skewers though, they’re gnawing and in line for the hoddeok when the fireworks start going off.

“I think that’s the viewing field.” Seungjun concludes, spinning to see where everyone’s headed, but Inseong yanks him back when he starts to walk.

“Everyone’s leaving if you still want hoddeok.” Inseong gestures to the emptying line, and Seungjun just grabs the hand Inseong’s holding out.

“It’s just hoddeok, come on. When’s the last time you saw legal fireworks?” Seungjun asks, dragging Inseong along to where everyone has congregated in the basketball court.

Seungjun makes the incorrect assumption that Inseong is one of those people that doesn’t get into fireworks when he offers to stay in the hoddeok line, because while it takes Inseong a few moments to charge up, he’s soon screaming and shrieking and jumping around, making bruises bloom on Seungjun’s arm every time one hits the sky.

“How old are you.” Seungjun groans, after Inseong echos a particularly loud explosion with a screech of his own. “There are actual children less worked up than you right now.”

“I am alive!” Inseong roars, jumping at another explosion, and breaking out into peals of laughter. Seungjun is going for judgemental, mature upperclassmen, but Inseong looks adorable jumping up and down like he’s on some children’s show and Seungjun soon finds himself laughing too, as Inseong’s cheering continues.

They leave after the fireworks show is done, Inseong too exhausted after his antics even if he’s trying to hide it, but they still need to walk off all the food so they head to the closest bus station that’s a part of the line that passes by Inseong’s apartment. It’s a twenty minute walk, and Seungjun spends most of the stroll imitating Inseong imitating a firewalk and erupting into giggles, laying down on a park bench at one point when he starts to feel light headed but still can’t stop laughing.

 

“And you were calling me immature.” Inseong groans, dragging Seungjun along as the latter continues to making ‘pew’ sounds. “I don’t even want to think about what you’re like when you get drunk.”

“I actually have a high alcohol tolerance.” Seungjun replies, preening.

“Bullshit.” Inseong ignores Seungjun’s sputters.

“It’s just a matter of science.” Seungjun argues. “Tall people have better alcohol tolerances.

“I think it’s heavier people.” Inseong argues, hand coming up to wrap around Seungjun’s bicep. “You can’t weigh more than me.”

“It’s all muscle.” Seungjun snides, hands sliding down his chest and legs coming up to kick Inseong when the younger bursts out laughing. “Lean muscle, okay? Muscle weighs less than fat.”

“You get 5 points back for being funny.” Inseong decides, pausing once they reach the bus stop.

“I still don’t know what that means.” Seungjun groans, collapsing onto the seat. “Out of ten?”

“Percent.” Inseong finally clarifies. “Out of 100. I guess this puts you at 85%.”

“That’s a passing score.” Seungjun nods. “I deserve a prize.”

“Prize?” Inseong echos, nodding after a short period of contemplation. “You deserve a prize. I’ll give you a star.”

“You must have done well on the national exam.” Seungjun grumbles. “Neither of you make sense.”

“Not that well, if I ended up at the same university as you.” Inseong retorts, cackling when Seungjun tries to kick him without standing up. “Anyway, two stars unlocks an actual prize.”

“I don’t even want it anymore.” Seungjun groans, laying down across the other five empty seats. “Leave me alone.”

“Are you sure?” Inseong asks, hopping over and kneeling down in front of Seungjun. Inseong’s eyes are glassy, like they always are, but it’s like staring into water the way the shadows glimmer in them when they’re this close. Seungjun’s torn between trying to poke one out and just laying, unmoving, forever.

“Sure?” Seungjun asks, blanking out when he tries to recall what they were talking about. Inseong’s adam’s apple shakes when he swallows, lump disppearing into the shadow under his jaw when he does so.

“Tada!” Inseong suddenly chirps, voice rising a few octaves as he shoves his bright ass phone screen into Seungjun’s face.

“Ow, jeez, watch it.” Seungjun groans, sitting up, Inseong following his face with the bright phone screen the entire time. “What are you talking about?”

“Read you senile hag.” Inseong tweets, expression just as blinding.

“Give it here.” Seungjun takes the phone, blinking a few times as he waits for his eyes to adjust, before seeing Inseong’s contact book open.

The screen is displayed to ‘Kim Jihun.’

“With great power comes great responsibility.” Inseong quotes, his arms waving about dramatically. “I trust that you’ll be more of a human and less of an ass when he warms up to you again.”

“I’ll be texting myself the contact then.” Seungjun replies, hitting the ‘Share Contact’ button and entering his number as a new contact under ‘Supreme Overlord.’ “You’re not allowed to regret this. Oh, what’s this, you have a new Instagram notification?”

“If you’re done then give it back!” Inseong cries, immediately grabbing for the phone, but Seungjun spins around in the seat just in time for Inseong to crash into his back instead.

“Wow, we’ve got a real narcissist here. How many selfies do you have here?” Seungjun teases, app only having just loaded the feed.

“Everyone takes selfies! Just wait until I get my hands on your phone you ass.” Inseong grumbles, still grabbing for the phone, but Seungjun curls into a ball in order to protect his grip on the screen. “Give it back!”

“Who’s Kyungri?” Seungjun calls to distract the other, at a loss for what to do with this power when he realises it’s too dark for him to take any selfies. He ends up opening in the search bar and finding his own username to follow while Inseong whines and pulls his hair.

“The bus is here! I can see it down the street will you gave it back my T-pass is on the app.” Inseong demands, nearly falling onto his ass when Seungjun abruptly spins back around in his seat and holds out the device.

“Have a safe ride home.” Seungjun smiles, waving the entire time Inseong curses him out and even after he gets on the bus.

Seungjun checks his own phone before heading back South to the subway station; he has a contact text from an unknown number; the unknown number gets saved first.

 

*     *     *

 

“I have an experiment!” Seungjun exclaims as soon as he walks through the door of Piney Cone, disappointed when Yoongi and Inseong are both with customers and throw him a judgemental look before turning their heads back to the customers.

“What’s in the bag?” Yoongi asks, noticing that Seungjun’s carrying stuff. “And no outside food.”

“There’s nothing in here yet.” Seungjun brushes off Yoongi’s protests as he lays his Seven purchases out on the counter.

“Actual customers come through here you know.” Yoongi glares, holding his expression even when Seungjun turns around and counts a total of five people in the shop.

“How am I not an actual customer? Who knows how much I’ve spent here at this point.” Seungjun starts. “Anyway, I am here to prove a point. Inseong, this is a plastic cup with ice and this is banana milk, strawberry milk, and peach milk. You’re going to-”

“Thanks and all, but I have a better idea.” Inseong interrupts, brushing all the drinks nearly off the counter and setting down a bento box where they used to sit.

“But I was-” Seungjun protests.

“Jihun isn’t here today.” Inseong cuts in again. “He called in sick.”

“And?” Seungjun asks, glancing between Yoongi and Inseong when they look at him like he’s supposed to know something.

“Oh yee of little faith.” Yoongi sighs. “How are you supposed to marry the guy if you haven’t spoken to him in weeks?”

Ah, right.

“He’s not actually sick; he just refuses to come into work when he’s argued with his dad.” Inseong clarifies, pushing the bento box forward. “He gets hungry though, and told me to order him food and that it had to get there between six and seven so no one else would be home when he went to the door to get it, and he could keep sulking in his room like a thirteen year old.”

“This is where you come in.” Yoongi adds. “You bring him food, you apologise officially, and then maybe you guys can have a functional relationship where you see each other outside of these four walls and I stop having to deal with you.”

“We'll hurry up.” Inseong chastises when Seungjun stands there, frozen and glancing between the food and the two cupids.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Seungjun asks, staring at Inseong, not really wanting to leave. He’d been planning this milk experiment all throughout his accounting and marketing courses today.

“You won’t get there in time if you wait any longer.” Inseong replies, grabbing Seungjun’s hand and placing the bento box on it. “He lives pretty close by but you have to head to the green line station and get off at the Sincheon stop.”

“Off I go.” Seungjun bids goodbye, heading back out the door, with a curt nod.

“Good luck!” Inseong calls after him.

“And don’t come back!” Yoongi finishes.

 

Seungjun has a strange tension developing in pit of his stomach as he walks to the subway station, wishing he were anywhere else as he gets on the train. He continues wishing he were anywhere else as moves on the subway, gets off, and walks along the path Naver map gives him when he plugs in the address Inseong texts him. The address includes an apartment number, but Seungjun still isn’t ready to face Jihun when he’s at the entrance, so he knocks on the door on the until a guard notices and lies about a sick friend being asleep so he gets let in.

Seungjun, honestly, still isn’t ready as he’s pressing the doorbell.

“Coming!” Jihun yells through the door when he hears the buzzer, yanking the door open and smile freezing when he sees Seungjun.

“Inseong and Yoongi sent me.” Seungjun smiles sheepishly, lifting the bento box up in lieu of an explanation.

“And you came?” Jihun clarifies.

“I figured I should apologise if nothing else.” Seungjun winces when Jihun’s expression doesn’t get better. “I was obnoxious.”

“Apology accepted.” Jihun nods, taking the box that Seungjun’s offered.

“Thank you.” Seungjun nods, wondering if he’s going to develop a neck strain at this point.

“And you’re still here.” Jihun makes note, Seungjun’s feet shuffling together in unease.

“That’s true.” Seungjun agrees.

“Because you’re in love with me.” Jihun continues.

“That’s- yup. Yup.” Seungjun confirms.

“And you want to go on a date.” Jihun’s just making fun of him at this point.

“Yeah? Yeah. Date.” Seungjun replies, words not coming easy.

“Oh, what the hell, let’s just get this over with. I should have just listened to Yoongi.” Jihun groans, tossing the food onto a nearby couch. “Are you going to pay?”

“Sure?”

“Then let’s go.” Jihun pats his pockets, gets a jangling of keys in response, and then shuts the door behind him. “I’ll eat anything with meat in it. What do you have in mind?”

They end up at KFC.

“You’re… you’re really bad at this.” Jihun comments, but he doesn’t look unsatisfied with his order of chicken drumsticks so Seungjun continues eating. “I’d been assuming you get around a lot, but I can’t imagine a KFC routine working out too well.”

“I don’t really date around.” Seungjun corrects. “I’ve been to sogeting a couple of times though.”

“How old are you again?” Jihun asks, and Seungjun isn’t quite sure if that’s a rhetorical question.

“93.” Seungjun replies, just to be safe.

“Seungjun hyung then.” Jihun concludes. “I’m 95.”

“Are you a first year then?” Seungjun asks.

“Yeah, in the business department.” Jihun answers. “That’s where I met Yoongi hyung.”

“I’m a sunbae too then.” Seungjun grins. “Have you picked a track?”

“I think I’m going to go with Accounting.” Jihun replies. “It’s the most straightforward and the job market never seems to be shrinking excessively.”

“That’s a good track.” Seungjun nods. “I have some friends in Accounting, if you need anybody to talk to.”

“Thank you.” Jihun replies, taking a sip of cola as Seungjun grasps at straws for something else to say.

“Are you in any organisations on campus?” Seungjun asks, sitting up straighter when Jihun lights up at the question.

“Yeah, actually. I joined the amateur football club.” Jihun responds. “I don’t have any experience or anything, but they only meet a few times a week so it’s easy to schedule and the games are really low pressure.”

“That’s good.” Seungjun approves. “It’s good to run around between course work.”

“Are you on any teams?” Jihun inquires.

“Oh, no, I just eat.” Seungjun refutes. “And I bowl sometimes when people invite me, but I don’t have my own set of gear or anything.”

“That… doesn’t surprise me.” Jihun snorts. “No offense.”

“I get that a lot.” Seungjun shrugs.

There’s a few more beats of silence as Seungjun bites into his chicken leg and Jihun starts to make a dent into his corn.

“So how long have you been working at the cafe?” Seungjun asks, after he’s done chewing.

“Oh, it’s my parents so literally since the day they opened.” Jihun explains. “It’s been, what, seventeen months? We were running over costs towards the end so my dad taught Inseong and I how to finish the floors, so we did that every day during all of winter break and got paid with pizza for dinner. Now that we’re actually making money my parents pay us though.”

“Inseong said you guys grew up together?” Seungjun replies.

“Oh yeah. Hyung claims he was there when I was born but I’m pretty sure that’s bullshit.” Jihun answers. “He lives in the apartment right above us though, so I saw him around a lot. We went to the same high school too, and people would get our grades mixed up since his personality stopped developing at the age of twelve.”

“I know what you mean.” Seungjun nods, clapping his hands together. “We were watching fireworks yesterday and he started imitating them, screaming all over the place. He scared some of the actual kids that were watching more than the fireworks.”

“Oh my god he’s _so fucking loud_!” Jihun exclaims, with great fervour. “During middle school he went through this phase where he wanted to be an idol and he was always trying to dance but he was banging into everything and falling over and all the sound carried down to our apartment.”

They finish their food easily, Jihun telling increasingly embarrassing stories about Inseong’s middle school days, and they end up getting a dozen of the honey balls after the meal. Seungjun stands up to throw the trash away during a lull in the conversation, and when he returns Jihun is standing too. They head for the door, Seungjun instinctively turning right to head home, but stops when Jihun clears his throat.

“So, wanna do that again?” Jihun asks rhetorically.

“Do what?” Seungjun asks, understanding a few beats later, but Jihun is already laughing.

“Date two.” Jihun responds, mockingly and making air quotes with his fingers. “Date three. Date four. Marriage. Kids. I don’t remember what you said, honestly I repressed it, but you know what I mean.”

Seungjun thinks about his grandpa’s expectant smile, the way he’d get teary eyed telling stories of his late wife, crow’s feet growing and voice getting gruffer but soft expression the same. Seungjun thinks about about the lecture he’d gotten about making relationships work, about understanding each other, about working through the fights instead of giving up. He thinks about the articles about arranged marriages in India working out because there was a mutual understanding of compromise and longevity, and about how he had looked those articles up to argue when his friends called him a hopeless romantic. He thinks about Jihun, staring expectantly back at him, and how it had been fine. They had held a conversation, they had eaten together, and no one had died.

But Seungjun, given a choice, wouldn’t be here right now. He doesn’t regret where he’s standing, but there are other places he’d rather be, other people he’d rather be with. He can put work into this, work into understanding Jihun, work into making their meet ugly story come full circle into something that can be looked back at fondly at a wedding, but there’s no will. Seungjun meets Jihun’s gaze, blinks once, blinks twice, and still can’t feel any will to fight well up in him. He doesn’t even know what he’d be fighting for, what they are. Crush? Love interest? Lover?

“We…” Seungjun starts, clearing his throat. “We had our moment; I think we can agree on that.” Seungjun fully intends to expand on his words, but figures it’s needless when Jihun nods in understanding.

“If you can call it a moment, really.” Jihun laughs, hand coming up to slap Seungjun on the arm lightly. “Are you sure? You’re not going to show up at my apartment tomorrow or anything, right?”

“I can delete it if you want?” Seungjun offers, and Jihun shrugs in response.

“Whatever will keep you from showing up.” Jihun replies. “One more question though?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why were you so persistent?” Jihun asks. “You were basically a part time stalker. Even when I started working in the back you would still show up. How did you think we had something?” Jihun elaborates, and Seungjun usually likes rapid fire questions because he can pick the easiest one to answer, but none of these are particularly straightforward.

“The first time I asked you out I think I was mildly interested for some reason.” Seungjun starts. “Actually you told me you saved me ice cream and I thought you were the one with a crush on me. Then it just became a habit, with Yoongi and everyone edging me on.”

“For the record.” Jihun concludes, shoving his hands in his sweatpant pockets. “I really wasn’t- nevermind. See you around.”

Seungjun is tense all the way home, relatively calm at first but his swirling thoughts slowly develop until he’s panicking. He really didn’t have any afterthoughts related to Jihun, but he doesn’t really want to deal with the pity from Yoongi or Inseong, or any of their other friends that Yoongi has inevitably blabbed to. He doesn’t want to deal with his father’s masked disappointment, or his grandfather’s reluctant acceptance, or his brother’s shock. He feels like he’s let a once in a lifetime opportunity slip by, just because he was too lazy to grab it, but he never really wanted it in the first place, but it was still a once in a lifetime opportunity.

“I’m back!” Seungjun calls, slipping his loafers off and haphazardly throwing the blazer he was carrying onto the sofa. He doesn’t quite know how to bring it up, or how to, but he knows he wants to tell his mother first. She’s not in the living room, kitchen, or anywhere to be found, which probably means she’s napping.

He knocks on his parent’s bedroom, five times just to be sure, before opening the door and jumping on the bed.

“Mom.” Seungjun whispers, and his mom is jostled but doesn’t open her eyes. “Mom! Mother! Her highness Lee Eunsang!”

“Seungjun?” His mom asks, eyes blearily opening. “Seungjun? Is something wrong?”

“No, mom, I just, I want to talk. Can we talk?” He asks, kicking the comforter open so he can crawl under.

“Yeah, of course, we can talk. We could have also talked during dinner, after dinner, or at any of my awake hours but this is fine.” She nods rapidly, flopping over and rubbing her eyes. “Go on, talk, tell me.”

 _“I just broke up with my soulmate.”_ Seungjun considers. _“My soulmate just broke up with me. I don’t think I believe in love at first site anymore. Can I move out to avoid talking to Grandpa for the next ten years. I don’t have a boyfriend anymore. I think I just got dumped. I think-”_

“I have a crush on Inseong.” Seungjun blurts out, and is met with a long-suffering moan of maternal grief.

“If this is about that ice cream shop-wait.” His mom stills, entire body freezing as she sits up and stares him down. “Ice cream shop boy. His name is Jihun.”

“His name is Jihun.” Seungjun confirms.

“Who is Inseong?” She asks, tentatively, starting to smile. “Wait, are you seeing someone else? Someone you didn’t fall in love with at first site? Someone your grandfather can’t hold over my head until he passes on? Someone-wait Seungjun, are you cheating on this Jihun? I mean I may hate every fibre of his being but you can’t just do that.” She starts to lecture.

“No, mom-”

“This is why I told that old fart not to brainwash you with all this soulmate shit.” She cries. “You’re so _inexperienced_  when it comes to relationships! Most boys your age have had at least two partners at this point!”

“Mom-”

“Cheating is not okay.” She continues. “You can’t cheat on Jihun. If you want to break up with Jihun you have to dump his sorry ass, and then move on to this Inhwang.”

“Inseong, mom.” Seungjun groans, wondering if his dad would have handled the news better.

“You have to dump Jihun before you move onto Inseong. This is called human decency.” She repeats, waving her hand around. “Inseong, Yoona, Song Joongki, doesn’t matter.”

“He already dumped me. Today. We ate KFC.” Seungjun explains.

“You got dumped?” She cries, brow furrowing. “Wait, which one dumped you?”

“Jihun dumped me.” Seungjun sighs.

“The one Junki met?”

“No, Junki met Inseong.”

“Inseong is ice cream shop boy?”

“They're both technically work at the ice cream shop, but Jihun is first sight guy.”

“I thought you took ice cr-first sight guy to the fair?”

“I pretended I took Jihun to the fair but I actually took Inseong to the fair because I lied about having a good relationship with Jihun he actually hates me.” Seungjun explains.

“But you and Jihun went on a date today?” His mother asks, glaring at him. “Park Seungjun. Start making sense.”

He ends up starting over, from when he and Namjoon went to go visit Yoongi, and also ends up having to introduce Namjoon and Yoongi to her, but they eventually get to where he is now, laying on her bed, feeling like an idiot because everything makes so much sense once he says it aloud.

“I don’t want to tell Grandpa.” Seungjun finishes, burying his head into a pillow. “Do you think he’ll be mad?”

“That senile old bastard just wants you to be happy.” She shakes her head, and makes Seungjun look her in the eye when he looks skeptical.

“I mean, that’s what people all say.” Seungjun doubts.

“Now you listen here, how many of those people have parents like yours? She raises an eyebrow, and Seungjun concedes that point reluctantly. “How many people have grandparent’s like yours? Your grandfather lived through colonial rule, and I don’t know how much they teach you in school nowadays, but everyone was fighting. They were fighting over the press, over which papers to believe, over the Japanese government, over whether they should change their last names, whether they should change their full names, whether they should move to the city, whether they should move to China, whether they should have kids, everything. Everybody was unhappy. Everybody except your dumbass grandfather, because he was in love. And that was how he coped.”

“Yeah.” Seungjun murmurs, not knowing what else to say.

“Your grandpa was probably only the man within a thirty kilometer radius happy to go home after work some days.” She continues, undeterred by his silence. “And he raised three happy kids, and with sweat blood and tears, one of them ended up at Seoul National.”

“Dad.” Seungjun confirms, letting his head get dragged onto his mother’s lap.

“He thinks he’s the luckiest man in the world.” She sighs. “He even lets his daughter in law talk shit about him because he feels so blessed he doesn’t take it personally. So trust me when I say this, okay? All he wants is for you to feel as blessed as he does; all he worries about is whether he’s used up all of the universe’s good will for his bloodline. What, do you think he cares about this Jihun’s future? He cares about yours. Your happiness.”

“Thanks.” Seungjun sighs. “Still don’t want to tell him though.”

“As a forewarning,” his mother qualifies, “I’m going to tease him about this relentlessly and he’s going to hate Inseong. But only on the outside. On the inside, deep inside, he’s going to want the best for you. Believe me.”

 

*     *     *

 

Seungjun has a lot of ideas, all crazy and representative of how little experience he has in this area, but decides to give the dramatics a break.

“Hey.” Seungjun greets, dragging Inseong off once the younger walks out of his morning class.

“Hyung? Oh, hey.” Inseong responds, arm jerking in shock before he relaxes and follows along.

“Do you have time today? After class? Can you call off work?” Seungjun asks.

“Huh? Yeah, I guess.” Inseong nods. “What’s up?”

“Let’s eat dinner together.” Seungjun replies. “Like a date.”

Inseong’s face is a multitude of expressions at this point, his eyes narrowed and eyebrows making small waves on his forehead in their attempt to convey simultaneous excitement and suspicion. His mouth is opening and closing rapidly before he scrunches his lips together and shoves them to the left side of his face.

“This isn’t a rebound date?” Inseong voices, after the facial turmoil ends.

“Nope.” Seungjun shakes his head.

“Okay then.” Inseong decides. “One date. Jihun says that you paid for him so you have to pay this time too.”

“That’s absolutely not going to be a problem.” Seungjun grins.

 

*     *     *

 

“What the goddam hell in fucking shit do you think you’re doing?!” Inseong shrieks, trying to backpedal as Seungjun drags him out of the elevator. “What kind of dumbass piece of shit takes his boyfriend on their first date at his _fucking parents’ house_?”

“This is technically our second date.” Seungjun corrects, stopping momentarily in the hallway under the guise of contemplating Inseong’s response but actually just exhausted from the effort it took Inseong into the elevator. “First date was at the festival.”

“It’s not a fucking date if I was convinced you wanted to marry my best friend.” Inseong squawks.

“Potato, potato.” Seungjun shrugs, continuing his steps forward.

“I don’t even have a gift! Let me at least buy toilet paper at the convenience store down the road! Oh my god I’m wearing my pajama shirt. This can’t be happening to me.” Inseong moans, accepting his fate and making Seungjun drag his dead weight to the elder’s door. “I want to break up. Can I break up for an hour and come back then?”

“I told them you were being surprised; they aren’t expecting anything.” Seungjun reassures him, fixing Inseong’s hair part before he presses the buzzer. “Well, my grandpa might pretend he’s expecting something, but just know that inside, deep down inside, he’s happy for us.”

“Isn’t he the one that’s convinced I ruined his good fortune with the god of fate?!” Inseong cries, slumping against the wall. “Everything is terrible. You are my god of bad fortune.”

“My dad might be a bit miffed too.” Seungjun shrugs. “My brother is still mostly just confused, but my mom will be happy to see you.”

“Small miracles.” Inseong sighs, dabbing at the sweat on his forehead with his t-shirt collar, and Seungjun can’t help but hug him.

“Don’t worry too much,” Seungjun coos, “if you get scared you can just hide behind me, shorty.”

“Fuck off.” Inseong groans, flinging Seungjun off as soon as the door bursts open.

“Gross.” Junki greets his brother, and then turns to look at Inseong. “Sorry, Seungjun’s explanation didn’t really make sense to me, can I just keep calling you Jihun?”

“For now, why not?” Inseong sighs, stepping inside and slipping his sneakers off and being attacked by Seungjun’s mother not a second later.

“You must be our Inseongie!” She squeals, pinching Inseong’s cheeks. “Oh, you’re adorable. Just in time for dinner!”

“We usually eat at seven.” Seungjun’s grandfather interjects gruffly, walking past Inseong and ignoring his bow. “Kind of short isn’t he?” He continues, tapping Seungjun on the shoulder, before making his way to the kitchen table.

“I’m not going to survive this dinner.” Inseong whispers, over his shoulder as Seungjun’s mom is directing him to the table.

“Don’t worry.” Seungjun mouths back. “I’m paying.”

Dinner starts uneventfully to say the least, though Seungjun wasn’t expecting any loud war declarations to begin with. His mother makes sure to shove extra food on Inseong’s plate but is otherwise listening to Seungjun’s dad tell a long story about the competition for the flute solo in their upcoming concert. Seungjun’s grandfather ignores Inseong completely, evident mostly due to Seungjun’s mother intentionally seating the two right next to each other and Inseong’s tendency to babble without end when he’s nervous. Seungjun just takes everything in, not minding the picture too much, but it’s his younger brother who interrupts their routines.

“Not that staforte isn’t interesting and all that.” Junki suddenly interrupts, making the other five heads perk up. “But what is the actual point of having hyung’s boyfriend here if we can’t embarrass them?”

“That’s a very good question, sorry honey.” Seungjun’s mother agrees immediately “Junki, do you have any questions for them?”

“Have you guys had sex yet?”

“I have a question for you guys.” She interjects again, throwing a cloth napkin at Junki’s face. “How did you guys meet? What did you see in each other?”

“Mom.” Seungjun groans, but she glares in response.

“We can also head back to your brother’s thoughtful question.” She threatens.

“We met at an ice cream shop by our university.” Seungjun responds immediately. “I don’t have a specific moment but we started spending more time together… and yeah.” Seungjun turns to see Inseong’s expression, curious since the two of them haven’t broached the topic yet.

Inseong is a fierce, fiery, bright-as-the-literal-actual-sun beet red; Seungjun doesn’t know what to think of this.

“That’s lovely, honey.” Seungjun’s mother responds, probably not even listening since they’ve all heard Seungjun’s side already. “Inseong, what about you? Don’t be shy, we’re basically all family now.”

“Well, uh, Seungjun started coming to the ice cream shop a lot, and yeah. Things happened.” Inseong stutters, and Seungjun narrows his eyes. Inseong’s lying.

“You’re lying.” Seungjun accuses, Inseong punching him in the thigh as soon as he says as much. “Have you seen me on campus before?”

“No, I really didn’t know who you were until you came into the ice cream shop.” Inseong protests, mouth instinctively shutting when he tries to continue. “It’s just… I was there the first day you came in.”

“Go on.” Seungjun’s mom says, scooting Inseong’s glass of water closer to him as encouragement.

“Well, it was as soon as you came in, honestly.” Inseong confesses.

What.

“I was working in the back so you probably didn’t see me but you’re literally the size of a tree so of course I noticed you walking in and you were like a giant puppy trying all the samples and it was so weird because you’re the size of Everest so I started noticing every time you came in but nobody else noticed until I asked Jimin to set aside the last of the Muddled Mint that one time we had a birthday party and-”

“What you’re telling me,” Seungjun’s father interrupts, “is that you fell-”

“Don’t do this to me.” Seungjun’s mother begs, shoving her chair bag and grabbing his arm. “Don’t.”

“For-”

“This fucking family.” Junki mutters into his rice. “What the hell was I born into?”

“Him-”

“Honey, if you love me you won’t finish that sent-”

“At first sight. The first time you met, right? Like a true Park.” His father finishes, sitting down his chopsticks and looking up at Inseong expectantly.

“Um, I guess?” Inseong responds.

“Is that so.” Seungjun’s grandfather speaks for the first time since dinner started, since Inseong arrived. Seungjun’s eyes dart over to see his grandpa drop is spoon, granules of rice and stir fry sauce bouncing onto the table and ground as the old man stumbles over to the window by their kitchen sink.

“You did good.” Seungjun notes, grabbing Inseong into a headlock and giggling into his hair.

“Is he going to jump?!” Inseong shrieks, arms flying around when Seungjun doesn’t release him. “This is literally the worst dinner-”

“DID YOU HEAR THAT?!” Seungjun’s grandpa shrieks out the window, banging on it a few times for emphasis. “AT. FIRST. SIGHT. YOU HEAR THAT OH? GET FUCKED!”


End file.
